COLD SMILES WORK IN PROGRESS
by frankielovesthejoker
Summary: OK- I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WORK THE CHAPTER THING SO IVE JUST PUT IT IN ONE BIG LUMP .


**(okay so the chapter thing I have no idea how to work so im just putting it as one big chunk.)**

**PROLOGUE**

Picture this- a young woman, twenty-six to be precise. She had long wavy blonde hair, the same texture as silk. Beautiful emerald eyes. Picture her happy, hand in hand with her perfect husband. That was Bellatrix.  
Before the accident.

David Cordonally put down his pen and sighed. He had just finished the Gotham Weekly's crossword in under ten minutes; they were so short and dull and easy these days. Well, who couldn't figure out; Number one, three down, domestic animal- clue: not dog. David did hate ruddy cats. They got fur everywhere and came at you when they were least needed or wouldn't come down from a ruddy tree when all you were going to do was stroke them. Yes, David thought cats were a waste of space. But David was wrong. He was wrong because at that moment a small cat was sitting on his windowsill, clawing at the glass pane and making that sound cats make. The cat was warning David. It was warning David that a dark van was pulling up in the courtyard underneath the block of flats where David and his wife lived. It was warning him that a small, but armed group of police were swiftly making their way to the fifth floor. A few minutes later the men burst through David's apartment. David tried to ask what in God's name they were up to but unfortunately he did not finish. A single gunshot rang out that day.

Two days later it was announced that the police had got the wrong man. Bellatrix Cordonally was distraught when she returned early from a two week chef course in Tulsa. They didn't have children but they were young, planning to start a family when they hit their thirties. A full and public apology was made my Gotham Police Dept. to Bellatrix and David's family. His parents mourned and his sister cried. But Bellatrix showed no sign of missing her husband. She kept her feeling locked inside, but she never forgave the police.  
Of course, that's where the trouble started.

**PART TWO**

i woke and rubbed my sore eyes. It had been a month since the death of David and nothing had changed. I was still alone in my flat, refusing to see anyone. Still waking to expect him lying next to me. Waking with stiff cheeks from where I would have cried myself to sleep, forgetting to remove yesterday's mascara. Eating less. Getting thin, greasy, drinking in the day. That day, I was going to change. I walked into the bathroom and studied my reflection; dark circles round eyes, hair tousled makeup smudged. I reached for a pair of scissors and cut my knotted hair down roughly to chin length. I splashed my face with freezing water and threw my mascara out the window. When I looked back up into the mirror I was scared, shocked and exited all at once. My appearance, the gleam in my eyes, had changed dramatically over a period of five minutes, but the strongest change of all was the change of my mind. No longer was I Bellatrix Cordonally. I was now Belle. Gone were the days of mourning my husband. The days of revenge had started.

After I woke, dressed and decided to change my life I opened my curtains and stepped out onto the balcony. The fresh air was a shock to me. I ran inside, grabbed my purse and dashed out of the front door. I suddenly felt in the need of space, air.  
I strolled through the courtyard, into the city centre. I walked past the cinema, the florist's and into the park. I sat down on a wooden bench and laid my neck against the backboard, looking up at the sky. Letting the cool, gentle breeze wash over me, sweep away the past month's troubles. I sat there for quite a while just thinking and listening to the sounds of the city. When slowly  
I drifted  
off  
to  
sleep.

I was jolted awake by the sound of sirens in the distance. It was getting dark. When I reached for my cell phone my hand slipped through the air. My purse was gone.  
"Grreat." I muttered. I brushed my hair from my eyes and walked halfway across the length of the park when-  
"Psst!" It was coming from the bushes. I turned to see two dark eyes staring at me from the undergrowth. Foolishly I stepped towards the eyes and parted the hedge, just to see what the stranger wanted. I gasped and jumped back. The stranger was crouched over a bleeding body.  
"No, no, no, no! Don't go!" The stranger hissed, grabbing my hand. He pressed it to the body's chest. "Beating?" he asked. I shook my head. Stunned, I took my hand away, wiping the blood on the grass.  
"Did you do this?" I croaked out. There was a long pause. The sirens were closer now. The stranger grinned and shook his head, pressing a knife into my hand and before making a speedy escape said;  
"You did."

The police were all over me before I could regain speech. The body was taken swiftly away and two officers grabbed my arms. This is where my vocal ability returned. I screamed and shook the men off.  
"It wasn't me, it wasn't me!" I cried. Cars with flashing lights were pulling up everywhere. I had no escape, I was surrounded. A man in important uniform stepped out of one of the police cars and slowly came towards me. "Lieutenant James Gordon" his badge read. I started hyperventilating, small beads of sweat appearing on my forehead, tears streaming down my cheeks. He stretched out his arm to calm me. I slapped his face hard. This caused a lot of commotion. I mean, I didn't realise I still had the knife in my hand.

Officers swamped me, taking hold of me at all directions. I was bundled into a police car, still screaming "It wasn't me!" I was driven off fast. When we arrived at the station my mind blurred and I was shoved into an interview room straight away. Questions were thrown-  
→Why did you do it?  
→WHAT made you do it?  
→Did anyone help you?  
→Did you commit this murder in the park, or did you move the body?  
I was in a trance, only half listening. The questions and accusations sailed through me. I didn't answer any, all the time absentmindedly mumbling "It wasn't me, it wasn't me." The interviewers laughed-  
"Love, you were found with a knife in your hand, blood on your clothes and a dead body at your feet! I think that suggests something, don't you?"  
My mumbling had got more to a tearful croak by the time the men left the room. Through the large glass window in the wall I could see those conferring things with more officers...  
and men in white coats.

A different car, leading to a different building.  
A new room. New interviewers. Kinder, but digging deeper.  
→Do you have any mental health issues?  
→Why do you keep saying it wasn't you? We know it was, darling.  
→Did you knowingly kill the victim? Did you bare a grudge, or did you just have the urge to lash out?  
I had given up protesting. I just sat there in silence, hugging my knees up on the chair and rocking back and forth to calm myself. The interveiwers stepped outside, like last time, to confer with more people. But this time none of them were in uniform; they all wore white coats and carried clipboards. Doctors. By the time the men returned I'd phased out again. Everything blurred, then, as someone took my arm and i felt a small, sharp pain in it, like a pin prick, everything went black.

Crying. Huge amounts of it. I wondered who was making such a noise until the numbness subsided and I felt the tears on my cheeks. I was in a white, padded room- a cell. A large, transparent, plastic window filled most of the front wall. Through it I could see a long, wide corridor, stuffed fill of nurses and doctors peering into other rooms such as the one I was in. Two beds and a calendar were the furnishings of my cell. My arms ached; they were strapped tightly to my chest. I'd never seen a real one before but I knew the garment I was wearing was a straitjacket. The sobs began again. A young nurse entered.  
"You okay, Bellatix?" she asked kindly in an English accent. I cleared my throat.  
"W-where am I? And it's Belle, please."  
"Ok, Hun. And yer some place safe, Darlin'." She replied, looking at a chart. I shot a quizzical look at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yer in an asylum. Arkham. Yer safe 'ere." I frowned. I'd heard stories about the infamous Arkham Asylum. About their odd methods of medics, their failing security and the sorts of people who ended up there.  
"I'm here to give you a short chat about what's gonna happen." The nurse carried on. "I'm Lucy and I'm gonna be yer main nurse here, darling, so don't you worry. Now 'ere during yer stay in Arkham we're gonna try a number of things. First we're gonna put you on some pills- you allergic to anything, Hun?" I shook my head. "Okay, well first we're gonna put you on some pills for about a week or so, just to get you stable, then we're gonna minimize it to a weekly injection. Now while yer on those injections we're gonna introduce a patient with similar...erm...problems to you and their gonna share yer cell."  
"That's why there are two beds?" I asked hoarsely.  
"That's why, pumpkin. We're gonna pop 'em in here to see how your socialising skills get back up and running again. Now also today, we're gonna start you on some pills but one of the doctors will come in for that later. You okay for now, Hun? You don't need any painkillers or nothin'?" I shook my head and mumbled a "thank you" and then Nurse Lucy left.

Wednesday-  
Time had passed. As I got better they let me out of the straitjacket. Took me off the pills. This didn't go down well. I started throwing screaming fits, I wanted pills! They kept me numb, made me calm. Where would being without them leave me?

Friday-  
Good improvement. I lost my craving for drugs, started talking to the doctors and nurses properly. Started seeing more of Nurse Lucy as well. After much consideration between the Arkham staff they decided to introduce me to my new cell mate. Lucy gave me a long talk on details of the patient.  
"He's a mass murdering psycho, so you'll get along fine." I frowned hard at her. "Sorry... not funny." She mumbled. I smirked. She caught my glance. Soon enough we were both on the floor laughing so hard tears came to our eyes.  
"Okay..." she started when she caught her breath."Okay. So. Nobody actually knows what's wrong with him but he deserves to be here, okay? He's just that little bit over the edge, y'know? Crazy. His name's Jack but he prefers "Joker". Or if you get to know him; "Mr. J.". He's a bit quiet, likes his own space. But like I say if you get to know him alright he's quite the charmer. Now there is one thing I should tell you;" she said in a serious, lower voice. "He's quite a handsome guy but I feel if I don't tell you this you may get a bit of... well, of a shock. He has... scars..."  
"Scars?" I asked.  
"Mm. Real deep ones, either side of his mouth." Just as Lucy was about to add to that ominous thought there was a knock on the door and a doctor and a man entered the cell. The doctor nodded at Lucy and left the room. Lucy shot a quick smile at me and followed.  
"Hello." I said to the man. He nodded in reply. "I'm Bellat- I mean, Belle."  
"Joker." He said, lying down on one of the beds and staring up at the ceiling. I studied his appearance. His hair was tousled and dark blonde with a faint tinge of... green. He was tallish, and somewhere between muscular and slim. His eyes were deep brown and, like Lucy had said, either side of his mouth, like a macabre grin, stretched deep, twisted scars.

**THREE**

I woke the next day at about five in the morning. Early anyway. I lay under the covers listening to my new cell-sharer's light breathing. I yawned as quiet as I could and slowly saw the Joker dragged the covers down from my eyes. I jumped a little when I saw the joker sitting on his bed cross-legged, head in hands, staring out the window into the corridor.  
"You thought I was asleep?"  
"I…um…" The Joker laughed as I stumbled with my words. We started talking, and by the end of that hour I knew everything I wanted to know about the Joker. Enough to be able to talk easily with him, anyway.  
Okay, so I'd made a friend. A crazy, psychotic clown, so what? Better than nothing.

Two days later I woke up to an empty cell. A small piece of paper lay on the Joker's pillow. I frowned as I got up. Had he been taken for tests? To share a different cell?  
"Ascaped" the note read. "Might be back later in weak. They'll drag me back anyway.  
Joker."  
"Good for you." I said to myself.

I didn't see Nurse Lucy for a while. But I did get a small TV with three channels and no remote in my room. "To keep up with the outer world" apparently. It did that all right. About four days after the Joker's escape I turned on the news.  
"Breaking News." The headlines read. "Criminal clown, known as the Joker has killed again. Nurse Lucia Gabe was found dead in her flat yesterday morning with multiple slits to her face and mouth. The Joker was caught and is now being deported back to Arkham Asylum as we speak." I turned it off, shell shocked and sat in silence, gawping at the blank screen. 'Criminal clown…' 'Nurse Lucy…' I closed my eyes. None of it fit, but it all fell into place.

The next day the Joker was bought back into the cell. I couldn't look at him. There was a long pause.  
"Joker…" I stopped. I didn't know this man. "Jack…" His attention snapped to me.  
"Don't call me that." He said slowly.  
"I thought… I- I thought that…" my voice was dry.  
"You thought what, Belle? Mm? You thought you could trust me? You thought I was your friend? Now how do you see me? A mass murdering freak-?"  
"No!" I cried. "No… I- I don't know…"  
"Yeah, well that's pretty much what I am. So… so for your own sake, just blank me. Pretend I'm not here."  
"I don't think I can do that…" I whispered, too quiet for him to hear. He turned on his side so that he wasn't facing me. I sighed and sat on my bed twiddling with my thumbs.  
I think… that might have been the day… I fell in love.

The next morning I was woken up by somebody lightly shaking my shoulder. I opened one eye. A doctor stood over me with a small group of nurses behind him. I frowned as he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed.  
"What are you-?" I started.  
"Just some regulation testing." The doctor replied.  
"What sort?" I asked. I hoped there weren't going to be needles involved.  
"The regulation sort. Come on, up!" he said.  
"O-okay, but can someone please tell him where I've gone?" I glanced at the Joker as I was pulled out of my cell.  
"Yeah, sure, whatever." The group escorted me down the corridor to a large empty room. I frowned. Regulation testing? Hmm...  
"Sit." A nurse commanded, shoving me in.  
"Where?" I asked.  
"On the floor, nit-wit." She replied curtly.  
"Er…" I sat down, wavering slightly.  
"Close your eyes!" someone said. I obeyed. There was a rustling noise, then a jangling.  
"Surprise!"  
I opened my eyes slowly. A nurse was waving a key chain with a single key in front of me. Okay, now I was really confused.  
"It's to your new cell, silly!"  
"Oh…" I started.  
"All to yourself."  
"W-why?" I asked, bewildered.  
"Well some doctors noticed you were actin' a little awkward with yer cell mate. So we're gonna wait a while for the socialising step." It seemed an eternity before I could reply.  
"Great" I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. "That's…that's great… Um, please can I go to the loo?"  
"Of course, Nurse Young, can you escort Belle to the lady's room please?" One of the nurses nodded and took me by the arm. I smiled. I knew exactly what I was gonna do. I got into a cubicle, locked the door, stood on the seat and climbed out the window. Then I ran. I ran 'till I was out of breath, I ran 'till I felt alive again, I ran 'till… I ran until I ran into someone.  
"Bellatrix Cordonally?" a deep, husky voice asked.  
"Actually, it's just Belle now- hooly fudge!" I yelped as I looked up. The man was masked and dressed entirely in black. The Batman.  
"I'll just be…over here…" I muttered and edged away. A black gloved hand clamped down on my shoulder.  
"Why aren't you in Arkham?" the Bat asked.  
"Oh… er, field trip." I answered. I could see through his mask he was glaring at me. I sighed. "They were gonna make me move cell and I really, REALLY liked my cell-mate." I moaned.  
"Who was…?"  
"Thejfker" I mumbled.  
"Who?"  
"The Joker." I said in a small voice. The Batman laughed.  
"The Joker cares for no-one but himself; you needn't miss him." He said.  
"Why does everyone say that?!" I screeched. "He's a nice guy and told me loads of stuff about him!" The Bat smirked.  
"Did he tell you how he got his scars?" He asked, sarcasm lining his tone.  
I thought for a second. "No…" I said eventually. For some reason this seemed to kill Batman's thunder. "I… I know why his hair is green…?" but the Batman didn't seem to be interested anymore. He grabbed my arm and practically dragged me all the way back to Arkham. At the door he let two guards take my arms, nodded to them and disappeared.

The guards chucked me back into my cell muttering something about 'a change of plan'. I grinned.  
"And where have you been?" the Joker asked, not bothering to look up. I swallowed hard to keep the giggles down.  
"Regulation testing." I said plainly. He smirked and rolled his eyes…those amazing eyes…  
"Hello?" my thoughts were interrupted. "Anyone there? I said, did you have fun?"  
"Oh yeah, definitely." He laughed.  
"So, on these regulation tests, I heard you ran into the Batman. Have a nice chat?" I went red. No way was I telling him about me and the Dark Knight's nice "chat" about being uncontrollably in love with a psychopathic murderer.  
"Um…yeah…" Then I remembered something the Bat seemed to have dwelled on. "How did you get your scars?" I asked gently. The Joker's eyes darkened and he frowned.  
"I don't know."

The police arrived at Arkham Asylum early Thursday morning. My door opened and the Joker was, yet again, thrown into my cell.  
"So, you gonna tell me why your always runnin' off?"  
"D you know someone called Aileen Cordonally?" He asked, ignoring my question.  
"Yeah she's my… she was my sister in law. Basically my best friend, why?"  
"Fuck." That was all he said. I didn't know why. But that was all he said. For the rest of the day he was quiet, only answering questions with "yes" or "no", and no explanations following.  
It was eight in the evening when I switched on the news. The Joker darted in front of the TV and switched it off, laughing awkwardly.  
"Do you really wanna watch that?" he asked. But I'd already seen the headlines.  
"You killed her…" I whispered, raising a shaking hand to my mouth. "W-why?" I got no answer. Aileen Cordonally- dead. "You MONSTER!" I screamed. If that spare cell was free it was soo mine.

For the next week I spoke to no-one. I was back on pills. Coming down hard. The Joker had slaughtered two of my friends. He was a merciless killer. Nurse Lucy was right- he deserved to be here.  
So why did I still love him?

**FOUR**

They injected me over and over until they convinced themselves that I was "Okay"(ish). I got a new cell mate- a talkative, bubbley girl with schizophrenia. Mary, was her name. I spent most of my days staring into thin air, thinking about... well, thinking. I didn't talk much and ever scince... that night... i never watched the news again.  
"So, who is he?" Mary snapped through my thoughts.  
"Mm?" I asked with a raised brow.  
"C'mon Belles, your staring off into space all the time, everyone kows you've changed scince they moved you. So, who is he? Or her?" I had to laugh.  
"He." I said firmly.  
"Oh, so there IS somebody, then." Mary said, looking smug. I went red. I was starting a habit of doing that. "C'mon, spill the lentils."  
"Beans." I corrected.  
"What?"  
"Never mind." I said. "Well there isn't anyone. Nope, changed my mind." There was an awkward pause. "Okay, so there is someone." I confessed, like a thirteen year old high school girl.  
"Tell." Mary demanded, just as childish.  
"Well, he's erm... mid hight, green-ish hair..."  
"Wai-wai-wait. You talking 'bout the guy with the scars?" I nodded slowly. "Woah. Girl, y'know how dangerous he is?"  
I sighed. "Yup."  
"An' ya know he dont love no-one."  
"No, I swear he felt...something towards me..."  
Mary Chuckled. "Good luck, girl."

On wednesday morning there was a sharp rapp on the cell door and a young doctor entered.  
"Would Miss Cordonally please report to the staff room at three o'clock this afternoon?" He said, reading from a note. I nodded and smiled and he left. Mary woke when she heard the door shut.  
"Who was that?" she asked.  
"Oh, someone wants to see me at three." I said. Mary Giggled.  
"Betchar in trouble" she squeaked. I laughed.  
"Er.. bet I'm not."  
"Unless its tests then you so are. Hey, maybe it's about that clown dude you like?" I cringed.  
"USED to like." I lied. "He's nothing but a murderer, anyway- how would that get me in trouble?" I asked. Mary just shrugged.

Two O'clock- the nerves kicked in. What if it was to do with the Joker? I took a deep breath. Like I said, I didn't see how that could get me in trouble. Would it? Maybe I was moving up a stage. Maybe I'd get visitors? I smiled at the prospect. I missed my family. Maybe I was going DOWN a phase. But I couldnt see why, I'd been doing quite good, i thought. I tried not to dwell on it too much as I saw the clock move to quater past.

Ten to three. Mid day sleep was interrupted by Mary gently poking me in the head. I smiled and got up.  
"Fourteen minutes!" she exclaimed. I shrugged, pretending not to care.  
"Dunno why your so exited; like I said nothing interesting will happen, I bet. Probally just tests or sommit." I watched the clock in the until I saw a young doctor walk down the corridor and let me out of my cell.  
"I'm off." I said to Mary.  
"Good luck." I raised an eyebrow.  
"With what?"

The doctor watched me until I reached the staffroom door. I smiled at him and he went. When I got inside my eyes widened. One man lay dead on a plush chair in the corner, otherwise the room was empty. An envelope was pinned to the man's head. I tried not to hurl as I slowly walked towards him and took the envelope off.  
'Up and Over' It said on it. I frowned and looked up. An explosion blew the back wall out. Peices of brick and plaster flew at me. I crouched down and covered my eyes until the explosion was over. So that was up...  
I climbed onto the debris and peered through the gaping hole in the wall. I climbed through it. ...And over.  
When i jumped down onto open ground I found myself in a feild. Okayy then. Another envelope was pinned to a nearby tree. Whoever was doing this had random style.  
'Warehouse across feeld.' It said. I didn't know what I was doing but somehow my feet carried me to the end of the feild, on top of a small hill. At the bottom was a corrogated steele building. The warehouse. If you asked me, I would have said it was completely empty. I skidded down the hill into a small courtyard. I knocked on the large door of the warehouse. Nobody replied. Slowly I pushed open to the door and stepped inside. It was dark, but not so dark that you could see nothing at all.  
"H-Hello?" I called. No reply. I stepped further into the empty place, the door creaking behind me as I let go of it. The light dimmed more.  
"Is- is anybody here?" I was getting nervous. Something brushed passed me. I turned quickly to see a shaddow move behind me. I gasped as a hand grabbed mine in the darkness.  
"Shh, It's only me," a familiar voice whispered. "Mr. J, The Joker." I turned to see his face. I would have laughed if the situation was different. His face was white with large black smears on his eyes and red covering his scars.  
"Stay away from me," I said, knowing that was definately not what I wanted. "Your a murderer."  
"So, we've figured that one out, have we?" He asked scarcasticly. I smiled slightly.  
For a moment I didn't care what he did to me. I thought hard about his next move; a knife maybe? Or a gun? I closed my eyes tight as he wrapped an arm round my torso. I could feel him move behind me, shifting round until I felt his soft breath on my cheeks. When I opened my eyes I saw no weapon. His face was close to mine and as we looked into eachother's eyes he kissed me. I pulled away, suprised. Was this the Joker I knew? I tried to turn my head but his lips caught mine again and this time I could feel myself kissing him back. I tangled my fingers into his hair. I loved the way I could feel him smiling as we kissed. I peeled myself away and looked into his eyes.  
"I... I wanted to tell you but..." I trailed off. I guess i couldnt find a reason I didn't tell him ages ago. "I love you." I said.  
"I know" he whispered and kissed me again.

So- Reality check: Two months ago I lost my husband and thought I'd never love again. One month ago I was turned into a nut house for being in a state of uncontrollable shock after being framed of murder and (rather creepily) repeatedly mumbling "It wasn't me" for seven days solid. Three weeks ago I fell head over heels for a psycopathic clown who had butchered two of my close friends. One week ago I wouldn't even look at him. That second we were in a desterted warehouse, snogging the faces off eachother, me telling him I've loved him for a month and three days.  
Weird or what?!

"So, what is this place?" I finally asked.  
"It's where I come when I'm free. S'got everything; bed, clothes, food, even a bookcase over there for some obscure reason."  
"So, d'ya think they've noticed we've gone, back at Arkham, I mean?"  
"Okay, so you got here, what? Half three. It's now... half four. They may have shit security but they catch on quick." The Joker answered. "They've probally got the police onto us by now."  
"Have you ever been caught here?" I asked anxiously.  
"Not here. Other places, but this one's pretty new." He said.  
I smiled. "Then we have plenty of time." I said, pulling myself closer. The Joker put one arm around my waist and used the other to brush back a strand of my hair from my face.  
"I like the way you think."

**FIVE (W.I.P)**

I was woken by heavy thumps on the door. The Joker sat up. I chuckled. His facepaint was smudged onto the pillows and his hair was tangled and all over the place. He smirked.  
"Look at yourself," he said. I looked into a small piece of cracked glass by the side of the bed. My blonde hair was tousled and smears of red and white where on my lips and face. My giggles were cut short by another blow to the corrugated stele door. I edged closer to the Joker. The door swung open and in spilled a S.W.A.T. team, Commissioner Gordon (that guy with the specs I accidentally stabbed.) and the Batman.  
"Grreat," I muttered, wrapping half the sheet around myself and sitting up slightly. The sound of twelve gun hammers clicking back ready to fire sent shivers down my spine.  
"I was wrong about you, Joker." Batman said in his ridiculously throaty voice. "Turns out you do have certain emotions after all."  
The Joker winked. "You'd better believe it, Batsy." He said in an equally gruff voice, mocking. I laughed at his mimicking tone.  
"You're scum, both of you!" The Bat roared. "You prance around pretending what you two have is more than love-"  
"Yeah, before you interrupted we had sex as well." The Batman ignored the Joker's quip. Commissioner Gordon stepped in.  
"You're both under arrest," he said, brining out two pairs of cuffs.  
"Why?" I asked, purely out of interest.  
"You have both killed-"  
"Actually I-"  
"And you've both escaped from the place of imprisonment more than once." Place of imprisonment? Are you meant to call hospitals thing like that?  
"Oh." Was all I said. The Joker rolled his eyes and laughed a little. We didn't exactly have an escape; no windows, no back exit.  
Extra reality check- we were now busted. Yippee.

Half an hour later we were sitting side by side in Gotham MCU. I was wearing an over-sized stripy shirt, belonging to the Joker, and my underwear. Freezing. The Joker was darned back in the bright suit he was wearing earlier, just without the waistcoat or coat. Both of us barefoot. After ten minutes of sitting in a sort of cage we were called into an interview room.  
"Thought I might get one of these instead of a bedroom," I said under my breath to the Joker. "Been seeing so much of interview rooms lately." He chuckled. Once inside we were shoved down on plastic chairs opposite Gordon. A metal table separated criminal and commissioner.  
"So," Gordon started. "What were you to doing yesterday afternoon after your escape from Arkham Asylum?"  
"Do we, uh, have to go into details, Comish?" The Joker asked, swaying his accent. Gordon kept his eyes hard on the Joker, awaiting a grown up reply.  
"Just answer the question."  
"Look here, Jimbo," I said. "He ran off, I followed, ya don't have to be Sarlock fucking Holmes to figure out what."  
"Sherlock." Gordon corrected. A guard entered the room.  
"Yes, Commissioner?" he said.  
"That name's still around?" The Joker said sadistically under his breath as Gordon waved the guard away.


End file.
